


Love Me Tonight (And I Promise You I'll Love You Forever)

by Shadowolf19



Series: I’m Not Half As Good At Anything As I Am When I’m Doing It Next To You (Earth 616 Series) [3]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, One Shot, Slash, Stony Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowolf19/pseuds/Shadowolf19
Summary: « I understand. Come with me. » he says, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to grab Steve’s hand as he passes him by. Old habits are hard to die.





	Love Me Tonight (And I Promise You I'll Love You Forever)

**Author's Note:**

> Second fill for my Stony Bingo card (prompt "shopping together") which is on at cap_ironman on livejournal and dreamwidth (and will be until the end of the month).

« Sorry, do I want to do _what_? »

Tony rolls his eyes and sighs. Some things never change.

« Go shopping. » he repeats, trying not to sound too annoyed. He’s not, obviously, not really, but begging has never been his style, and Steve… Steve always makes him beg. And he hates it.

« Tony, what-- »

« Oh my god, forget I said anything. » Tony groans, but his reaction is thoroughly studied, because sometimes they could go like that for _hours_ , and he doesn’t have the patience for it, not today.

He waves a hand as to say goodbye and goes around the kitchen counter, opening the fridge to get some water, making sure to keep the other still within his eye field. _One, two, t—_

« Look, I’m sorry, I just don’t understand why would you ask _me_ to go shopping with _you_. »

 _And three_. Oh, he knows him so well.

Tony takes a sip of water, much longer than he actually needed, and with extremely slow movements closes the fridge door. He turns back to face him again, shrugging.

« Because _you_ need to stop wearing the same boring clothes all the time, that’s why. And we’re both free today which… it hasn’t happened in a while. So. Do you wanna go or not? »

He looks at Steve as if he actually was in a hurry, and that does the trick. Captain Rogers _hates_ wasting people’s time.

« Tony… » he replies, but before Tony can say anything he closes the gap between them and keeps talking, his voice not louder than a murmur now: « I just don’t feel comfortable showing my face around when I’m not in the suit, not yet. I feel it’s too… _soon_. »

Tony can feel a shiver running down his back as Steve gets closer, and has to look somewhere else beside his eyes to suppress the instinct of pulling him close. He takes another sip of water, much shorter this time, and when he nods his voice is perfectly stable.

« I understand. Come with me. » he says, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to grab Steve’s hand as he passes him by. _Old habits are hard to die_. Sometimes he wishes he knew if the other man had similar thoughts, but then again, he’s fully aware that the chance of actually finding out would scare him even more than not knowing. And that’s probably why he has never asked him, and never would.

When they get to Tony’s room, he turns and holds a hand up, stopping Steve just as he is about to step inside.

« Hold on, mister. I didn’t invite you _in_. » he says with a smirk, but oh, he would _love_ to.

Steve sighs and nods, not really knowing how to answer to that, so he just stays silent, as if awaiting further instructions. And maybe he is. He just doesn’t _know_ it.

Tony goes to his wardrobe and opens it, starting to look inside at the mess of his clothes piling up in no order whatsoever. He knows the other’s eyes are on him, but tries to ignore it. Sometimes it feels like they are just caught in a never ending loop. It drives him _insane_.

« I doubt anything you have there is gonna fit me, Tony. »

 _Not even your own stuff, Steve?,_ he thinks, just as he spots one of his t-shirts, at the bottom of a pile. The truth is, he still has the last of his drawers filled with Steve’s clothes, and sometimes it opens it just to look at them, until the memories start to surface and he needs to shut it close again. For a moment, he wonders if the other would remember those clothes, was him to take them out. But it’s not a risk worth taking, so he just throws out an oversized shirt in fading colors which seems to have come straight from a thrift store followed by a blue baseball cap. He closes the wardrobe and turns, picking up the two items and handing them over to Steve.

« Lucky for you, sometimes I don’t like to be recognized either. » he says, picking up a black, stripy hoodie from the floor and wearing it with the hood up. Steve looks at him with a mix of amusement and disbelief, but stays silent and wears both the shirt and hat. Then, ignoring Tony’s previous warning, he gets inside his room to look at himself in the mirror.

« I guess these will do. » he nods, and before he can do anything else Tony steps outside and turns the light off, grabbing his sunglasses on his way.

« C’mon, Rogers. Let’s get to that mall before everybody is out and about. »

∞

The mall that Tony choses is obviously a high street one, which means most of the shops in it don’t even have price tags on their clothes. Plus, being the day before a national holiday and quite early in the morning – in fact it’s only ten minutes after opening – allows them to be almost the only people around. The detail doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve, who starts to slowly let go of his hardcore stance.

« Glad you decided to stop flaunting your muscles around, Rogers. » remarks Tony in a falsely annoyed voice.

« What are you talking about? » frowns Steve, who evidently wasn’t really paying any attention to his own body language. « I wasn’t _doing_ anything. »

Tony shakes his head to himself and grabs his wrist, pulling him inside an Armani shop. Steve instinctively freezes up for a second at that touch, but then he just follows him inside, looking around. He has never been in such sophisticated shop before, and he’s sure Tony knew it too, because he lets go of him and goes to speak straight with the supervisor.

« My friend here needs a do over, Stuart. » Tony says, glancing at the young man’s name tag.

« Tony… » starts arguing Steve, already regretting his decision of going along with this plan, but the shop assistant is already taking his measurements, so all he can do is sighing and letting him do his job.

Tony, who had imperceptibly held his breath as hearing his own name being called out in the open like that, turns around, spots a pouf chair and goes sitting on it, waving a hand to Steve.

« Go with him, he knows what he’s doing. I’ll wait here. » he says, dismissing Steve’s incredulity and his vain attempt to protest. _You would never believe how much of a pain in the ass this guy can be, if only given the possibility_. And this means something coming from the man who is widely known to be _the_ pain in the ass number one on the country. The very first one among the “good guys” to be commonly associated with the definition of disaster. Something goes wrong? Must have been Stark’s fault in some way or the other. He’s well aware of this, and yes, it bothers him, and yes, he still has to pretend that it doesn’t, because that’s the part he has been assigned to play.

He takes his phone out and starts checking financial websites to pass the time; he reads so fast that he gets through at least one a minute, and he can already feel the shadow of boredom starting creeping up on him.

« … He insisted that I had to _show you_ , for some reason. »

« That’s because I told him to. »

Steve’s voice catches him all of a sudden so his reply is earnest, not calculated; as he lifts up his glance from the small screen he can’t keep a tiny grin from making an appearance on his lips, but he makes sure to keep it a bay. He never believes people who claim clothes doesn’t matter in one’s appearance, and the proof is in front of him right now: it’s just beige chinos and a white plain shirt whose sleeves have been slight rolled up but damn, don’t they make a difference?

 « Well, well, well, would you look at that… »  

« Can you just st-- »

« … You don’t look like a homeless person anymore. »

Steve had forgotten just how _inappropriate_ Tony could be in public, but the memories are quickly returning to him with the same sense of uneasiness and secret enjoyment that his behavior used to provoke way back when.

Tony goes around him to check how the clothes fit, a task which he’s more than happy to fulfill because honestly, he would take up any excuse to look at that body, there’s no need to lie to himself about it.

« What do you think, sir? » the assistant asks, and Tony nods in approval.

« I think this is perfect, Stuart, thank you. » he replies, and then, looking at Steve: « What about you? »

Steve thinks that he would much rather disappear, thank you very much.

« Well, these surely _feel_ nice but-- »

« Perfect. We’ll take them. »

« Tony… »

« We’ll take them. » insists Tony, patting Steve’s shoulder as to dismiss him from the scene.

« But I don’t even know how much they cost… » Steve mutters to himself while going back into the dressing room, sighing.

Tony follows him with his eyes, and when he’s sure the other man is locked in the changing room he makes his way to the register and asks to pay for the clothes. A swoosh of his credit card followed by a signature and it’s a done deal. Tony thanks him and steps outside, leaning against the wall and checking his phone again. He’s more than pleased to discover that there’s been no emergency yet.

Steve gets out a couple of minutes later, carrying a big bag. He stands in front of Tony and sighs, looking at him.

« You didn’t have to buy them for me. »

« Just say thank you, Rogers. »

« Wh— of course, thank you, but that’s bes-- »

« You can buy lunch, okay? » interrupts Tony, strolling away from him. Steve frowns.

« Lunch? Tony… » he shakes his hand, quickly catching up on him « We need to get back… »

« Actually, we don’t. I checked with Friday, no emergencies yet, and it’s lunch hour so… Your pick, I won’t complain. »

« That’s not what I meant and you know it. »

But Tony is past wanting to waste time in stupid discussions like this, so he stops and for the first time since the morning he actually looks Steve straight in the eyes.

« I swear if you don’t stop moaning I’ll leave you out here without a second thought. » he says, and the tone he uses doesn’t leave space to misinterpretation. He is serious. « Look, I just want to spend some time with you when we’re not getting shot at or under mind control or any other shit that always seem to be happening to us lately. Do you really want me to be more straightforward than this? »

He hadn’t meant for these words to come out, to make it so clear that he had damn missed him so fucking much. It’s not his style and he hates it, but most importantly he hates that he has this effect on him. Sometimes he actually think he should make himself a favor and leave the Avengers altogether. But of course, that would never happen, not for more than a short while anyway. He just wishes Steve was easier to read, because the truth is, most of the time he doesn’t have a fucking clue as to where he stands with him. Needless to say, he hates this too.

Steve looks at him mesmerized, staying silent for what feels like to be minutes, then eventually starts walking again, in the direction of the car.

« I fancy a good hot dog. Let’s go to Coney Island. »

 _Of course you want a hot dog_ , Tony thinks, rolling his eyes and following the other; his stomach gives a grumble of protest, as he was already imaging a delicious plate of rock oysters. But he can’t keep a smile to himself.

∞

« So, how’s things? »

They’re sitting in a shady bit by the boardwalk, on a wooden bench facing the ocean; the temperature has risen quite abruptly since midday, to the point that Steve felt necessary to get rid of his oversized shirt, and now he’s only in his usual grey t-shirt – not that Tony had something to argue about that choice, quite the contrary: he had gotten rid of his hoodie himself, replacing it with a hair band which makes him kind of look like a tennis player. But nobody is really paying attention to them, everyone storming on the beach to enjoy the sun and the nice weather. Matter of fact, they’re the only one he can see in the shade.

« Confusing, mostly. And tiring. Some days I feel really old, you know. Like so much life has passed me by, but at the same time, we’re still making the same mistakes over and over again. »

That answer throws Tony a little off balance, so much so that it takes him a while to say something back, something _meaningful._ And how else could it be? Those are probably among the truest words Steve has ever spoken to him, and they came out from literally nowhere. He wasn’t expecting this, but a _“Oh you know, things are good, yes, I’ve had a rough patch, but I will be alright eventually”_ or crap like that, as usual. That’s Steve Rogers 101. But this… this is something Tony doesn’t quite know how to process. And it doesn’t help that it’s a statement he could put his own signature under.

« You are getting old, aren’t you? » he eventually manages to say, regretting it immediately. Then he wonders why nobody ever confides in him. _This is exactly why, genius._ But much to his surprise (again), Steve smiles and chuckles softly.

« I guess I am, yeah. » he agrees, taking another bite from his dog.

Tony looks at him, still struggling to find the right thing to say out loud, because god knows how many he’s got running around free in his brain. _If only you knew, Rogers_ … he thinks as he forces himself to turn his gaze elsewhere. Soon the words transform themselves into images, and Tony loses himself in them. All of a sudden there’s a house with a pool, a proper _home_ , not just a suffocating tiny bedroom where the smell of blood has become part of the décor. The more he gets deeper into his imagination, the more he starts forgetting about limits, and here it comes, a baby crying somewhere in one of the rooms, and him picking them up and rocking them gently. And then…

A hand lies on his arm, waking him up. He looks at it, and then at Steve, and _oh god, I just wanna tell you everything but I can’t._

« Tony? Are you alright? »

« Of course. » he lies, and again looks away, because he’s damn sure Steve knows something is up. Why doesn’t he tell him then? He just doesn’t know, but he can’t stand sitting there any longer so he gets up and goes to the barrier, leaning against it and looking at the distance. Steve keeps his eyes on him, a concerned look on his face. He swallows the last bit of his food and chucks down some water before speaking again.

« Just tell me if it’s something I said or did. »

« Nah, it’s… » _something that you didn’t do, Steve. It’s too many things that I did do. It’s us, and our lives, and the roles we picked up when we were young and didn’t know any better. It’s you and me, always spinning in circles, always making choices for others because we do know better, and we have to take action even when it sucks. It’s you sticking with me even if I fuck up so many times, and god only knows why you keep doing it. It’s me and my incapacity for making stuff last, and why whenever I’m around you I act even more Tony than usual, just to keep myself in check, to not look in your eyes and tell you to give me a second chance at this._ « … it’s Stark Industries. I don’t know what to do with it, now that I’m back and everything. » he concludes, and has no idea how long it took him to come up with that lie. He turns to face Steve again, who lifts his right brow in an expression that seems to be screaming: you’re not fooling me.

« You know that I can’t help you with that. »

« Yeah, I know. I just had it in the back of my mind, that’s all. How did you enjoy your dog? »

Steve nods in approval and then stands, picking up the garbage to throw it away in the nearby bin. Tony keeps his eyes on him, trying not to get lost in his own thoughts again, but even if he doesn’t, he’s still not sure he hears the next words that come out from Steve’s mouth right.

« Hey, let’s go knock over some milk bottles, it’ll be fun! »

« Sorry, did you just suggest we go down to the carnival? I’m not sure I heard you right. »

But Steve’s grin suggests that yes, he heard him right.

« What, are you afraid I’m gonna beat you? Which I will, by the way. »

« Oh, you are gonna regret _that_ for sure. » Tony replies, and without any warning starts running down the boardwalk « Last one to the booth pays first! »

∞

They don’t stop at the milk bottles; before they realize it they start going through every single stall at the fair, and at each turn they become more competitive than the last. The hot summer afternoon slowly gives way to a slightly cooler evening as the shadows begin to lengthen and the lights come up. It’s only now that Tony glances again at his phone (that had mysteriously been muted at some point during the afternoon) to find a bunch of missed calls and read a time that he can’t believe it’s real. Did they just spend a whole day together? When was it the last time such a thing had happened? For the life of him he just can’t remember. He pulls Steve by his elbow – he was currently finishing a round of ring toss which has just won him the fourth goldfish of the day – and when he turns his smile is so bright and wide that Tony has to really keep himself in check not to pull him into a kiss.

« Look, I won another one! »

If there was even a tiny, microscopic chance that Tony would share how late it was, seeing the four plastic bags each filled with water and a goldfish makes it disappear from his mind in only a second. _We deserve this_ , he thinks, and before his rational side can protest any further he nods to Steve and starts walking towards the exit.

« Thank god I bought an aquarium after the first one you got » he smirks, and even if he can’t see him he hears his giggle coming from behind. A shiver runs down his spine, _again_ , so he unties his hoodie from around his waist and wears it, the hood up. Before he can test if it was indeed the cool breeze’s fault, Steve wraps his arm around his shoulder, apparently trying to stop himself from giggling. And there it goes the shiver, again. If there was ever any doubt, Tony now knows that no matter how much he can try and cover himself up, he’s not going to achieve anything with that arm on him.

« Oh, you’re just jealous because I clearly won the challenge. »

« Shut up. »

His reply causes a second wave of chuckle, which puzzles Tony even more. If they hadn’t been together the whole time, Tony would actually wonder whether Steve had drunk something more alcoholic than Diet Coke. But he knows that’s not the case, so…

« Are you okay there, Rogers? »

Being called by surname has the effect of calming him down somehow, as Tony knew it would. _Military training never really leaves you, I guess_.

« Yeah, I… » Steve nods, and after a brief pause: « Thank you for today, Tony. I really needed it. »

They’re back at the bench where they had sat to eat their lunch earlier on; suddenly all of those thoughts come flooding Tony’s mind again, those words just spoken only add more force to his already pounding heart. “Today” is such a foreign concept in their line of work, where days can go on and on without a break in between, and days become nights that become days again and they’re still out there, fighting, trying to make the world a tiny bit better. But today… today they lived an almost normal day, and although he knows he shouldn’t have muted his phone, he can’t feel guilty, especially now, after he said “Thank you”. To Tony, that’s worth everything. Even if that same person will probably get mad at him later on when he finds out about it. Even then, it will have been worth it. Because today isn’t over till midnight, and that’s still a few minutes away.

« I know. » he simply answers, and his voice sounds softer than it has ever sounded, because his arm is still around his shoulders, even as he stares into the distance. And Tony… Tony can’t ignore it anymore.

He throws a quick glance at Steve, completely at ease, not a soldier right now, not even a superhero, just a normal _person_ , and before his good sense can make a return he stands on his tiptoes, stretches towards him and kisses the corner of his mouth, closing his eyes to smell in his aftershave and nothing else. The arm that had been resting on his shoulders drops out of surprise, but Tony is now too deep in to care.

« Tony… » murmurs the other man, but his voice doesn’t sound pissed off, rather stunned.

It would probably be a good moment to step away, maybe even laughing whilst crafting an apology; Tony has never been the kind of person to make smart life decisions though, and all he wants right now is listening to his name being called again and again.

« Make me stop… » he replies, and this time his tone echoes almost like a beggar’s.

« … I can’t. » murmurs Steve, feeling goosebumps on his own skin now.

Tony smiles against his face and kisses his lips once more, not holding back this time.

« Then I won’t. » he promises, gently pushing his own tongue between his teeth to find his.

Steve doesn’t protest, but wraps his arms under Tony’s bum, lifting him up on the barrier so that he now sits more or less comfortably on it while he starts kissing him back. Tony smiles on his lips and cups his face into his hands, as if they could possibly be any closer than they already are.

His mind doesn’t have a rational thought for a while – all it seems to be saying is _Steve_ , and all it seems to be wanting is his body against his, and sweat, and love, and every single inch of his skin because oh, it’s been too long and it was driving him out of his goddamn mind.

But then a clock strikes midnight somewhere nearby, and it’s like an alarm goes off somewhere in his brain because he moves his mouth away from his, just an inch or two, and searches for his eyes before whispering gently, his voice so thin and low that it’s barely audible, but he knows he will.

« Happy birthday, Steve. »

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from one of my favorite songs of all time (called 4th Of July, Asbury Park, by Bruce Springsteen) which seemed quite fitting. I spent probably more time than I should have before starting writing because I had to stop reading comics for a while a couple of years ago and although I've recently started again, I felt I had some gaps which needed to be double checked - I hope I did an okay job with that. I should also add that my headcanon is that Steve and Tony were together at some point in the past (possibly until Civil War more or less), but after that it seems like there's never a moment of peace for them between one cosmic emergency and the next, so I played on that.


End file.
